Oh your Sunday dress ain't too much for armor
Oh for me, my mother's son
Said you were from a wretched father
Oh the sweet swift of the silent gun
Oh my knees are praying for water
Holy city, fall to me
Oh and watch the face of this burning brother
Oh and bury me with mercy
Well I may worry
Well I may speak
Well I may see war in this money
May I never worry
May I never speak
May I never see the hour of disbelief
Will you right these wrongs if this shall be?
Well I may show love, oh pray for me
And if I rise from these flames and the misery
Will you mend these wings that I'm flying with?
Well I may worry
Well I may speak
Well I may see war in this money
May I never worry
May I never worry
May I never see the hour of disbelief
May I never see the hour of disbelief
Will you right these wrongs if this shall be?
Will you mend these wings that I'm flying with?